I have to write this for a Sociology class, and I hate looking at Notepad, so I'm going to write it here then copy pasta it there, k? Oh, and try and figure out what it is I'm talking about, i'll tell you after 4 trys.

This ritual, as well planned out and choerographed as it is, seems to be incredibly random and spontaneous. It can consist of 3 to 20 natives, sometimes more or less. All of them will meet at one of the natives homes, bringing with them magical boxes that they seem to worship. They lavish these boxes with flat circular jewels that shine like diamonds, but are made of a substance that only few know the secrets to combining. These boxes seem to carry something, or they themselves be, alive, for they are connected to ropes or vines that seem to be attachable with out knots or adhesive. These various limbs reach out to numerous places of which are hard to explain

The First rope is to the wall, where it seems to draw magical energy to fuel the various things that happen in the box. These people seem to be addicted to this magic, for all of their possesions use the secret power.

The Second rope goes to a magical mirror that, while sleeping works like a regular mirror, but when awakened, works in conjunction with the magic boxes, and is what makes them so worshipped to begin with. I believe if this mirror did not exist, then the magic boxes would be nothing more then useless.

The 3rd vine seems to go to a place that, while no one can ever seem to find, all of the vines are perfectly in sync with. It is believed this vine is how the boxes "talk" to each other, though this has yet to be denied nor confirmed.

And the 4th and final vines come from the same area and bare fruit of incredible shapes. They seem to mold and bend themselves to fit the human hands perfectly, as if it was their soul purpose to be controlled by these natives. Sometimes, the fruit dont even need a vine, as if telepathically talking to the box.

They beat on these fruit, that never seem to get bruised, and cheer and yell at these mirrors, as if competing somehow. Everynow and then the winner can easily be spotted as he walks around gloating, while the loser slowly sinks back into his seat. It is truely a barbaric scene.

The natives also consume foods of unimaginable contents. Dried potatoes mixed with heated oil, dough covered entirely of sugar and salt, crunched up corn powdered with rotten milk, wheat mushed and heated up and dipped in a concoction made up of onions and a cream thats sour to the taste.

The drinks they consume seem to be even worse, for most of the time it is highly unknown as to what goes in them. What is known, how ever, is that for what ever reason, these drinks seem to cause even more shouting and yelling, and make the people impatient and sometimes angry, if not even crazy.

But everytime these people come together, it seems another one shows up for only a few seconds, baring a wierd mixture of liquified tomatoes, molded milk, bread and thin strips of cooked various animals. Though he brings all this stuff, he curiously does not stay to partake in this ritual, but merely walks away as the other natives feast upon it, stopping everything else they were doing before hand.

They then resume what ever it was they were doing before, as slowly, one by one they all leave, until only one remains, who eventually falls asleep as the drinks and food wear off.